Wrap me with an ice pick and get me on down to you

Like Le Tigre on speed the re-mastered re-release of THEDEATHSET's EP: TO, kicks of with Paranoia which is the titlecut. And then the moods are set. All seven cuts are all top-shelf. Turn up the volume and break off the volumenob. The quirky electro-indie-punk will get to you for sure. To little time now. But check out the band. Beatbots have a nicer longer review saying:

Baltimore’s newly adopted Australian spazz-punk duo hit the ground running with To, a freshly remastered EP that showcases the year-old band’s frenetic, exuberant D.I.Y. aesthetic in 20-some breathless, high-energy, eardrum-throttling minutes.

The Death Set’s unique, infectiously catchy sound is heavily reliant on drum machines, laptops, intelligently exploited samples from television and hip-hop, and simple guitar riffs and keyboard parts that carom off of each other like pinballs. But the band’s real strength stems from their layered vocal stylings— Beau Velasco’s throaty wail supports and augments Johnny Siera’s Buzzcockian shrieks, creating a completely new voice that is far greater than the sum of its parts. Every so often, the whole operation collapses into a gut-wrenching, wordless wail that seems set to become the duo’s trademark.

Unlike many punk outfits, The Death Set infuses their lyrics with playfulness and positivity. Once you figure out what they’re saying through their jury-rigged microphones (created by gutting old telephones and antique radio mikes), it’s hard not to sing along with lines like “if I felt cynicism I’d wrap it in a blanket of discontentment—fuck that!”(“Negative Thinking”) or “it’s a top-secret mission and our enemies are wishin’ that they had a bigger gun” (“Around The World”)

For those who managed to get a hold of To in its earlier, non-RabbitFoot incarnation, this EP includes a brand-spanking-new track, “Boys/Girls.” Stomping along on a killer swampy bassline, this paean to the perils of being an effeminate rock boy finds Siera squealing “it’s easier to get boys than girls, ‘cause faggy boys don’t get them wet!” and features the catchy refrain “How fru-stra-ting!”

Of course, it’s impossible to capture the raw, sweaty, destructive punk energy of The Death Set’s Copycat warehouse shows on disc, but To is a great snapshot of a young band on the make—giddy, accomplished, and over far too soon. Thank goodness for repeat buttons.